Under The Mistletoe
by small-but-strong
Summary: A Merry Christmas for two of those on Tracy Island.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Thunderbirds, nor do I make any profit from this escapade I have created. _

_It's been a while, but I thought I'd get this one out in time for Christmas. (just in time!) Note slightly higher rating for mentions of... lets say... romantic sitaution!_

_Merry Christmas and I hope you enjoy!_

It had only happened once, and under the most extreme circumstances.

However hard she tried, she could not push the lingering thoughts from her mind.

She often wondered how he reacted the next morning, waking to find only creases in the bed sheets to show she'd ever been there. A frown crossing his handsome features as he got dressed and left the hotel, returning home.

It wouldn't happen again.

It couldn't happen again.

For one, it was unprofessional...imagine such an encounter with the son of her employer, even if he had just saved her life in the most dramatic fashion.

At that moment where she truly believed Lady Luck had failed her. The tremors from the train speeding towards her matching the uncontrollable trembling of her body. He'd been the one to save her in that moment, lie against her, holding her as she had fought to remain composed. He'd been the one to gently wipe the first tear from her eyelashes, his warm hand cupping her cheek. His eyes, reassuring, understanding...safe...never leaving hers.

She couldn't control her emotions...he'd been more than willing.

No, it was a once off…a shame really, but ever the professional it was the way things were.

XXXX

The island was bathed in soft orange light, another picture perfect sunset forming on the horizon. The gentle splash of the waves breaking on the shore lulled the beach's only occupant into a comfortable silence. He basked in the beauty of the sunset before picking out another pastel, scratching it across his paper and studying it for a moment, before beginning to mix another colour. He worked in silence, until he sat back, placing his sketch on the sand in front of him, the last of the streaks of blues and yellows above them fading into a deep purple as the sky darkened, the sun disappearing.

With the artistic study of the sunset now finished, there was nothing left to occupy his mind.

Only that which he had fought so hard to stop mulling over.

Penelope.

He pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his chin upon them as he let his mind drift back to that day...the subsequent night. The soft kiss she had placed on his cheek having treated him to dinner. Her hand resting against his arm, not ready to let him part from her as he'd escorted her to her hotel bedroom. The hesitance in her voice as she had invited him in for a nightcap.

The feeling of her warm skin. The taste of the red wine on her lips. The silk of her hair as he pushed it back from her face.

It was a once off. He repeated this again. A once off. She worked for his father, it wasn't the right thing to do.

It wouldn't happen again.

XXXX

The invitation to join the Tracy family for a Christmas celebration sat on the table, adjacent to the stack of toast Parker had prepared, along with a freshly brewed pot of Earl Grey tea. Her favourite tea. A tea which made her feel much better.

Penelope wondered if Parker knew more than he had let on.

Her eyes passed over the letter, written in Jeff's formal script. She smiled momentarily, having always enjoyed her visits to Tracy Island. There had not been many, but they had been most memorable. She was fond of Jeff, his resilience, his unadulterated love for his sons, his unfailing friendship with his closest employees.

She couldn't ignore such an invitation even after what had happened.

But it had been six months and she was convinced things were very much back to normal.

Well, she was really trying to stop thinking of it.

Christmas would be fine. Not a problem.

He probably never thinks of it, she assured herself.

XXXX

She's not even bothered by it. Virgil watched her as she laughed and joked effortlessly with his family. Her eyes shining as Gordon told her another of his ridiculous tales, probably at John's expense judging by the scowl which crossed his face.

He couldn't bring himself to approach her. He was afraid of what he might say.

He had thought six months was more than enough time to sort his head out. To get over the quick fling. That was all it had been.

As soon as she had walked into the lounge, he'd been captivated. She was a delight in blue, her shimmering blonde hair falling in soft waves around her face. She was so beautiful.

He felt every cliché he'd ever heard.

Heart skipping a beat, finding breathing was suddenly much more taxing, seeing her and only her in the room.

It had all happened in those first seconds.

But she hadn't shown any of those signs. She'd hardly even glanced at him.

She was definitely not bothered by it.

XXXXX

So blasé. So laid-back. So unconcerned.

Penelope could only wish she felt the way Virgil did. He'd smiled off-hand at her. Managed a brief 'hello' and 'Merry Christmas' before seeking out Brains, then his father, then each of his brothers, then Tin Tin...

He'd said nothing to her. He'd hardly glanced at her.

Even Tin Tin received a chaste kiss on the cheek.

He clearly had forgotten all about that night as soon as he'd left the hotel.

She had spent so many nights replaying each moment between them, over and over, butterflies in her stomach as she remembered that first kiss between them...

But he didn't.

She lingered on the balcony as the family began to disperse. Scott and Virgil sharing a nightcap, Gordon and Alan playing pool, John stargazing.

She must have stayed for hours. Her revive was disturbed by a soft piano melody which floated out into the night air around her.

Three simple notes to begin with before more notes until a larger melody was coaxed from the keys. She turned and walked towards the balcony doors until she saw him, a crystal tumbler resting on top of the glossy black piano as his fingers moved fluidly across the keys, filling the air with notes and minor chords, combining to make a heartbreaking melody.

He paused for a moment, becoming aware of his audience of one, glancing over his shoulder towards her. She saw his chest heave, a sudden intake of breath, his eyes flickered back towards the piano.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," she said softly. Virgil's eyes remained fixed in one position, but she saw him lick his lips. He looked almost nervous.

"You play so beautifully," she continued, clasping her hands together in an attempt to stop them hanging awkwardly by her side. At this he looked back at her, deep dark eyes that drew her in, made her feel as safe as she had that day...that night.

"Thank you," he replied. His voice carrying the same warmth his eyes held. A smile ghosted the corner of his mouth. She returned the smile, both waiting to see if the other would fill the sudden awkward silence.

"I should let you continue in peace," she said after a moment. She began to move towards the bedrooms when he reached out, taking her wrists softly between his fingers.

She stilled immediately.

"Stay."

He spoke so softly that Penelope wondered if this were her imagination running away with her. A few glasses of wine too many with dinner and now she was dreaming of how she wanted the evening to end.

She didn't dare turn round, didn't dare end this moment.

"Sit with me...please?"

Penelope turned to face him, seeing her own feeling of nervousness reflected in his eyes. He stepped back, letting go of her wrist and shuffling along the piano stool.

She hesitated for a moment before tentatively taking a seat in the space he'd made for her.

They sat pressed so close together than Penelope could feel his breath against the side of her face, the soft fabric of his shirt brushing against her bare arm, a thin piece of fabric between their skin.

Her lips were so close to his soft cheek and the warmth of his body against hers brought to mind many of those forbidden thoughts.

She felt his chest moving, brushing against hers, his breathing beginning to increase as she shifted herself a little closer to him. The soft caress of her eyelashes against his chin, his breath stirring the hair that fell across her face changed the atmosphere in the room and both found themselves turning to look at each other.

In that moment she wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

"I..." he began, but stopped, chewing the side of his lip distractedly, looking away for a moment. Penelope's breath caught in her throat, hardly believing this event was unfolding.

"Virgil," she whispered, her eyes seeking out his own, looking for the emotion she desperately hoped they shared. Her hand reached out, cupping around his cheek and easing his head back round to face her.

"I...I'm rubbish at this kind of thing," Virgil said after a moment, smiling sheepishly.

He had thought about it.

They did feel the same.

Penelope felt her eyes fill and laughed softly.

Such a romantic at heart.

"Mistletoe!" she said suddenly, looking towards the door leading into the lounge. Hanging above it, as it was on most doors in the house was a large bunch of the Christmas plant. It had been a ploy by Alan to gain as many kisses from Tin Tin as possible. She leapt up, grabbing it before returning to sit next to Virgil once more.

His fingers grazed her cheek as he manoeuvred himself into a better position, both pausing for a moment to look at one another, to share in this moment of Christmas joy. He tenderly traced his thumb along her bottom lip, watching her eyes close and her chest well up.

The air between them was thick with anticipation.

They moved closer, his hand at the back of her neck, easing her closer still. She titled her head upwards, another shared smile between them.

Six months of uncertainty.

Virgil moved to close the gap between them, his warm lips against hers, that feeling of absolute delight exploding within him.

Her fingers tangled in the hair at the back of his head, pulling him into a deeper kiss, her body arching into his as he responded.

It was over too soon.

Virgil could have kissed her for so much longer, but both craved oxygen and parted from their embrace, slightly breathless, cheeks flushed.

"Merry Christmas Penelope," he whispered, holding her close against him again, letting his head fall down towards hers.

Their noses bumped together before Penelope gifted him with another lingering kiss.

"Merry Christmas Virgil."


End file.
